


Red Gym Shorts

by sweetponzu



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M, Underage Smoking, cuz jihoon is stressed af abt his responsibilities, cuz mingyu is a clumsy yet cheeky beb, ripped pants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 06:56:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7498521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetponzu/pseuds/sweetponzu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘I found you stuck in the toilet because you ripped your pants ok so I had to lend you my gym shorts and it looks so funny on you I can’t breathe’ AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Gym Shorts

**Author's Note:**

> im sorry

Jihoon is very particular about which toilet he goes to, which stall and at what time he should go. The boy’s toilets in Kirin High are anything but clean, with the exception of the toilet by the gym in the old building because not a lot of people go to it. Something about it being haunted. Jihoon snorts. 

 

The only thing Jihoon’s afraid of is missing his chance to smoke a stick from the pack he’d wedged behind a loose tile. He’s running late today because he had to tune the piano for Mr. Kim’s class; Jihoon swears he can teach Introduction to Music better than he ever can, but that would just be another responsibility weighing him down, something he doesn’t really need anymore of, lest he’s driven to smoking a whole pack per day. 

 

He’s about ready to throw himself into the stall when he gets there after smiling and sidestepping the other students vying for his attention. Imagine his surprise when he finds that the last stall to the far right, the large one for the disabled, was taken. 

 

It’s certainly not part of his routine and he lets out a huff of breathe that the person hears, judging by how they shuffled around. Minutes pass, but it didn’t seem like whoever was inside was going out any time soon. Jihoon bends over to see if they’re just about done, only to see that they’re just standing there. Their legs were nowhere near the toilet. 

 

_What the fuck._

 

“Excuse me, are you not using the toilet?” he asks, tempering his tone. 

 

“Um, uh, I am!!”

 

Jihoon raises an eyebrow, “Are you just about done then?”

 

“Uhh, no? I mean, you can use the other stalls?”

 

Jihoon cannot, in fact, use the other stalls. _His cigarettes were there._ There’s no way he can just casually ask the other boy to reach into his hiding spot and hand him the cancer sticks. Jihoon did not want his reputation ruined, thank you very much.

 

“I really can’t, actually.” Jihoon sighs, pressing his palms to his eyes to abate the incoming migraine. He looks down at his watch. Twenty minutes till he has to go to the student council meeting, ten minutes since school has let out. He can even hear the baseball team practicing by the bathroom through the closed window. Why was this person hiding out here instead of going home? Unless they had– oh.

 

“Hey, did you pee yourself or something?”

 

The boy in the stall sputters.

 

“It’s perfectly fine if you did, I can have someone lend you new pants and inform the janitor to come by before they close for the night.”

 

“P-please don’t! I didn’t pee myself! I swear!” he shouts in reply, panicked.

 

Jihoon feels amusement tug at his lips but spares the other boy by not letting out a laugh. 

 

“If you didn’t pee yourself, then why are you locking yourself up in the bathroom stall?”

 

“I…I may have ripped my pants…”

 

Jihoon tried. He really did. But for once, he doesn’t feel bad for failing– he laughed loud and long, almost bending over in his fit. 

 

“Yah! Stop laughing!” the other boy sputters, head coming into view from the top of the stall door. Jihoon laughs harder. This giant, waddling around with ripped pants!

 

“Besides, I’m not the only weird one here! Why cant you just use the other stalls?” he pouts, almost whining. Jihoon wonders what year he is. 

 

He shrugs, “I’m very particular about where I take a shit.” 

 

It’s the other boy’s turn to laugh now, bend over and out of Jihoon’s view, seemingly causing a ruckus within the stall, palms hitting the tiled walls. With a clatter, a tile falls and shatters. There’s silence.

 

“Um, wow, there’s, there’s cigarettes here.” 

 

Jihoon sighs, “They’re mine. I go here. To smoke.”

 

“Isn’t that against the rules?” the other boy meekly asks, popping up again to peer at Jihoon. Jesus how tall is this boy?

 

“Yes. Yes, it is.” Jihoon says nonchalantly. His face morphs into a smirk when a thought strikes him, “If you keep quiet, I won’t tell anyone about your pants.”

 

Instead of replying to Jihoon’s proposition, the other boy asks for his name. 

 

“Isn’t it better we don’t know each other’s names? That way there’s no way any of us can tell.”

 

“Yeah, but how will I know you’re trustworthy? What if you’re one of those punks in the school gang?”

 

“First off, the fact that we’re even having this conversation, instead of me kicking down the door should be proof enough. Second, do I _look_ like a punk to you?” he gestures down at himself, white shirt fully buttoned up, vest crisp and closed, hair black and swept off his forehead. “ And third, my name is Lee Jihoon, year three, class one.”

 

“Wait, are you Lee Jihoon, this year’s Student Council President?!” he asks, astonished.

 

Jihoon sighs, “Yes, and you are?”

 

“I’m Kim Mingyu, year two, class three. It’s nice to meet you, hyung!” the giant–Mingyu– says, unable to keep still like a particularly excited puppy. “I’ll keep your secret, but can you lend me some pants?”

 

Jihoon looks down at his watch again. Ten minutes before the meeting. He needed at least five minutes to walk back, so he has to do this quick.

 

“I have my gym shorts in my bag with me, would that be fine?” he asks, already pulling back his bag to look for the red shorts. Mingyu nods enthusiastically.

 

A minute passes after he hands the shorts to the taller boy, the rustling of cloth tells him Mingyu has put on the shorts, then silence. 

 

“What is it now? Did you rip my shorts too? I swear to god Kim Mingyu–”

 

“No! No, I didn’t hyung!” 

 

“Then come out, I don’t have much time left.”

 

“Y-you gotta promise not to laugh, hyung.”

 

“Fine, fine, I promise.” Jihoon rolls his eyes, feet tapping impatiently while a smile threatens to bloom on his lips. This Mingyu kid was ridiculous.

 

The door swings open and out comes what may be the funniest thing he’s seen since Soonyoung decided he can chug ten banana milk cartons in under ten minutes (read: he failed. but he set up a new record for projectile puking in school.) 

 

Mingyu is tall, taller than Jihoon, which is something he begrudgingly admits is not that hard a feat, but Jihoon can bet that the kid is taller than most of the school population. Which only serves to make it even funnier to see him wearing Jihoon’s gym shorts, which thinking on it, seemed short even for _Jihoon._ The polyester fabric cinches around his upper thighs but is sort of loose around the hips. It looked like a drooping red pair of Speedos and it would have been sexy– Jihoon refuses to admit that the light dusting of blush on his cheeks is from the spread of long tan legs on display, no way, its only because laughing takes a lot out of him, okay??– if not for the giant, comical pout Mingyu sported, along with his hunched shoulders and his fingers pinched around the band of the shorts to keep it up. 

 

Jihoon laughs so hard, he actually _does_  bend over, almost falling to the dirty bathroom floors if not for Mingyu catching him. Which only prompts another round of laughter from Jihoon because Mingyu lets go of the waist band and the elastic of his Pororo briefs sees the light of day. Amazing.

 

“Hyung! You _promised_ ,” Mingyu whines, contemplating letting Jihoon fall down and get covered in germs, the smile on his lips betraying him.

 

Once Jihoon has calmed down, his phone lets out a shrill noise. He’s late for the meeting. And he hasn’t even taken a smoke which he had needed so badly earlier. Meh, they can live with him being late.

 

Looking at Mingyu fuss about his shorts in front of the sink mirror, Jihoon shakes his head; he didn’t need to smoke anymore. He may have just found a new stress relief. 

 

A mischievous smile splits on his lips before he pinches on the red fabric and tugs.

 

_Riiip._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> #notsorry


End file.
